Like Tsunami Tides
by FrozenStrawberries
Summary: Kurt is an actor, Blaine is a musician. A New York fic set as flashbacks showing how New York drove a wedge between the pair, their time apart, and the reconciliation spanning over a number of years. Klaine with Kurt/Rachel friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This has been an ongoing project for months, and I've almost finished it. To actually force myself to come up with an ending, I'm putting it here. I adore AU college type stuff, and this is a bit different to my previous klaine oneshots. The timelines will get confusing, and it does jump all over the place to give you hints of the background, so bare with me!**

**Obviously I do not own anything.**

**You and I ended over U.N.I by Ed Sheeran was my soundtrack for this, and the song will surface in later chapters.**

**It's pretty damn angsty with some integrated fluff and lots of Kurt/Rachel friendship.**

X

The subway had lost its excitement within the first month.

The sheer number of people crushing Kurt between pillars was overwhelming, only due to the fact he had never seen that many people in one place before. Everyone had somewhere to go, even the tourists with their noses in their maps had some sort of direction, however slowly they got there. Kurt rarely saw anyone like him, just sitting in the last spot between the student with the obscenely loud music and the nine-to-five business man, just watching.

But a month later, Kurt was fed up with being squashed against the glass doors, fingers slipping on the hand rail. He had no time to stop and people watch, he had places to be, auditions to go to, rent to pay. But however busy he was, he always found his gaze lingering on the Broadway posters, just like the tourists, just like the first time he set foot in the overcrowded underground.

X

**_February 2016, New York._**

Kurt was twenty three, broke, and being dragged along in the current of lunch time subway sheep when he heard it. The unmistakable tones of Miss Rachel Berry singing her go-to audition song were magnified in the small tunnels, and Kurt found himself turning around and following them.

_"On my own..._"

Her voice sored and the harsh lights of the metro seemed a little lighter. Closer, she couldn't have been much further.

_"Without him, I feel his arms around me..."_

There! The short brunette was layered in colours, her shoes clashed with her coat, and people were avoiding her like the plague. Kurt smiled, some things never changed.

A tiny stereo crackled out the faint instrumental, and a bedazzled bucket or pot was in front of her. It was empty.

"_Without me, this world will go on turning. A world that's full of happiness that I have never known!_"

She hadn't seen him, her eyes closed in a classic diva look, 'pushing the emotion away', and he leaned against the nearest pillar.

_"I love him, but only on my own."_ Her voice swelled, the music faded, and the silence of the subway returned. Instead of applause, there were coughs and half-heard conversations. A voice came over reminding people that unattended items would be removed and destroyed.

Kurt clapped.

X

"I can't believe I didn't know you came back." They sat in Kurt's one bedroom apartment. Well, it was more like a one room apartment. The bed folded up in one of those horribly creaky contraptions, but he couldn't be fussy.

Rachel shrugged, "Everywhere said I was too young, or I looked too young, or I was too short. I was always too something."

"So what happened? Finn said you dropped out of Ohio State..."

"I went to the other end. Glamorous LA, you know? I did a little time in Vegas as a backing singer, but I always loved this city, even if it did spit me out." She laughed hollowly, and Kurt noticed the slight sag in her shoulders, the lines on her forehead.

She twisted the conversation round, not letting him ask what she was doing now. He told her about his infrequent work at Green Ginger as a barman, and he guessed she saw his eyes dull as he did when he looked in the mirror.

X

It was nine o'clock when Rachel's stomach rumbled, and Kurt laughed. "Do you have anywhere to be?"

"Unfortunately not."

Kurt got up and made his way over to a cupboard, poking her in the side as he went. "Tonight we are serving noodles, noodles, or noodles. Take your pick."

"Noodles sounds amazing." She smiled.

X

"I saw him, you know."

They were laid side by side on Kurt's pull down bed. He claimed he wouldn't feel gentlemanly letting Rachel make her way home this late, but it may have had something to do with the way she described sharing a bedsit with three unseemly characters. Characters who seemed to enjoy leaving used needles around the place.

"Everyone sees him, Rachel." Kurt sighed, he knew this was coming.

"You know what I mean. He said you stopped returning his calls." She said gently.

"Well, he stopped listening."

X

**_June 2012, Ohio_**

"Blaine, come on, you can't honestly be nervous?"

"I'm not nervous!"

"Blaine, you have sung in front of hundreds of people before! There are probably only about forty people out there, tops." No response from the boy sat with his chin on his knees. "You sung to me on the first day we met, and look where that got you."

That, at least, got Blaine to look up. Kurt cocked an eyebrow, smirking.

"Kurt-" The boy on the floor reached out a hand which Kurt grabbed, hauling the smaller boy to his feet.

"Breathe Blaine."

"But, all those times, I had people behind me, supporting me, I should just say... I should just go. Let's go." Kurt stopped his talking with a quick kiss, before pulling back and shaking Blaine slightly by the shoulders.

"Yes, all those times you had the Warblers there. But I am here supporting you now. You're going to be perfect. They are going to love you."

Blaine's lips twitched, "I seem to recall you telling me that before the unfortunate Gap Attack..."

Kurt wacked his boyfriend on the arm. "That was your fault! You cannot blame my pep talks for your failure resulting in loosing that poor boy his job."

"I don't think you called him 'poor boy' at the time. Mercedes told me some lovely things you compared him to-"

"Ok, that's enough out of you! Come on, you're going on soon. You know your set list?" Kurt fussed, brushing his hands over Blaine's light shirt to get rid of imaginary lint.

"Yep."

"And your guitar is out there right?"

"Yes." Blaine laughed.

"A new kid in tonight for you guys," the waitress of the bar was on stage, "He's underage, so no matter how good he is, no-one is buying him drinks." Laughter splattered around the room, and Kurt gave Blaine a push.

"Good luck!" He hissed.

X

**_February, 2016, New York_**

"I still don't understand why you guys ended it." Rachel was still probing him for details before she launched into the inevitable story she was keeping bottled up.

"It's complicated." But it wasn't. It was so simple, the way they fell apart. Kurt just didn't like to think back to where it started, because he would have to shift through the good memories to find the few bad ones.

X

**_June 2012, Ohio_**

Kurt didn't like the image before him as he emerged from the men's. Blaine was sat on a table with an older guy, who was all kinds of folksy-looking with a stubble beard and chequered shirt.

But then Kurt was at the table, and Blaine was looking at him with unhidden excitement, and introducing him to the man. Apparently he was in some mainstream country band, and they were looking for an opening act and _oh he just loved Blaine and the way his mixed up top forty with his original, raw sound._

Then he handed Blaine a card and said the words _managers number_ and_ think about it _and _in two weeks time_.

Kurt had remained standing partially behind Blaine's chair during the exchange, so Blaine turned around and absolutely buzzed with excitement.

Then he was hugging Kurt saying, "I'm so glad you made me do this."

And Kurt was saying, "I'm so proud of you!" and held onto Blaine a little tighter than Blaine was holding onto him.

X

**_August 2012, Ohio_**

"Got your toothbrush?"

Blaine laughed, "Yes, Kurt. I have everything. The most important things are my guitar and my phone charger so I can tell you everything."

"I wish I could go with you and see you play." It wasn't supposed to be like this, he wanted to say. They were supposed to be spending the summer together planning college and convincing their parents to let them stay over at the other's house.

Blaine pulled him into a hug, and Kurt knew he was standing on his toes as his chin was hooked over Kurt's shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you so much, but it's only a little while, right?" Blaine's voice caught, and suddenly Kurt's throat contained an astoundingly large lump.

"Right. And it's going to be amazing." He wanted to be excited for Blaine. He had to be.

"I know it wasn't supposed to go like this," Blaine whispered in his ear. "I know we were supposed to do this together. We should be going to Broadway together, but this is just too good to miss."

But Broadway was always Kurt's dream. Who would willingly buy a CD of stuff he wrote himself? After the disaster of the most recent 'original song writing' fiasco for nationals, he had sworn never to even attempt expressing his feelings with words unless someone else wrote them. He was an actor, Blaine was a musician.

The difference was huge when it meant Blaine touring without him.

X

**_April 2016, New York_**

There were very few times when Kurt went out and actually got hit on when he was with Rachel. Each time they went to a bar they usually ended up sat in a corner, whispering to the other conspiratorially. In clubs, they would crack out long forgotten glee club moves, and then fall over laughing at memories of Finn's terrible interpretations of said routines.

In two months they had fallen into a much easier friendship than they had during high school, partly due to the fact that they were both at the bottom of a much larger heap now, where everyone had the same dream. This hit of reality had wiped the sparkle off Rachel, without completely removing her shine.

And for Kurt? His outlook on the city had actually gotten better since he had someone to share his awful living conditions. Rachel didn't seem to mind rolling out a camp bed every night, and she cheered him up by proclaiming what a great story it would all make some day when they were rich and famous. Her tales of their future views from a non-existent apartment complex did, surprisingly, brighten his day.

So they danced, they laughed, and when Rachel went to the toilet and a guy approached him after so many months without even a look... Well, how could he refuse?

Rachel came back, and the charming guy with the brown eyes conjured up a well built friend to chat to her whilst he whispered in Kurt's ear, "Your place or mine?"

Kurt told Rachel not to wait up for him. She gave him a look that showed she wasn't as drunk as he thought she was.

"I'm not taking this guy back to our place," she said, stressing the _our_ and placing a hand over his, "So come home any time."

X

**_September 2012, New York._**

"So you'll call me when you land, right?"

"Kurt, you'll be literally five minutes away from me. Do I really need to ring?"

"Yes."

Blaine laughed, "But how will I get my luggage if I'm on the phone?"

"You'll manage." Kurt said into the phone, his free hand signing his new flat lease, and sticking a red blob next to the line Blaine would be signing later that day.

X

**_April 2016, New York._**

The guy was a college student, probably far too young for Kurt, but he didn't care. They snuck through the flat building at around 3am. Kurt was too drunk to notice about the mess of empty pizza boxes and beer cans thrown around the living room, and spun the guy around against his door when they reached his room. Kurt leaned in; breath ghosting on the college kid's lips.

He was muttering something like _don't mind the mess_, or _sorry for the stuff on the walls_, _I wasn't expecting company_, before trying to close the distance between himself and Kurt's face.

Kurt's hand which wasn't around the guy was flat on the door, but it didn't feel quite like a door. It was plastic and smooth and, Kurt's eyes flickered up. _Oh, a poster._

The light bulb was one of those annoying energy saving ones, and the dim yellow light reflected off the poster as the college guy trailed kisses over Kurt's jaw.

"Sorry again for the posters, I'm a bit of a fan."

And that's what cleared the murky drunken fog, and he saw _Blaine_ there in front of him, on the door. Kurt backed away from the guy and turned.

Blaine with a guitar, Blaine sat looking moodily into the camera, Blaine's profile and silhouette and guitar on _every single wall_. A stack of CD's, tour posters, gig tickets arranged above the bed.

As Kurt walked, the college guy followed, and only now did Kurt realise how short he was. How obviously dyed his hair was. How he had contacts over on his desk labelled 'non prescription'.

And without a word, Kurt grabbed his jacket, and practically sprinted back into the cold air of New York.

X

He didn't tell Rachel because he didn't want her to laugh, and however sensitive she was being towards him and the break up, she was still_ Rachel_.

But it hit him then, how far away he was from the past, how out of reach Blaine really was now. It was one thing to know Blaine's success, and it was another to see it in comparison with his own failure.

He slept with his face in his single ratty pillow to soak up the tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Waaa I am an angst whore.<strong>

**Review? ;) I get happy and dance for each one. Sorry again for how jumpy it is, but it will even out soon enough as the time lines catch up.**


	2. Chapter 2

**_May 2016, New York_**

"Hello?" Rachel answered her phone during a night in, her feet up on Kurt's lap as they watched some re run of Top Model.

"Ok, wait hold on." She flapped a hand at Kurt and pointed to the remote. He handed it to her and she scrolled the channels. "Which one? Okay. Wait, but what are you-"

She looked at her phone in disgust as the person obviously hung up. "Ugh. She hasn't changed."

"Who was it?" But Kurt's question fell on deaf ears as Rachel just shushed him and changed the channel.

The screen showed a crowd, and there was a lot of screaming going on. The camera swung back to focus on a red carpet.

"Rachel..."

Kurt recognised a few minor celebrities, and then the camera swung again and they saw a stick thin brunette in a stunning red dress. After closing her clutch bag, she placed a hand on her hip and posed for flashing cameras. She spun to show off all angles and-

"Santana?" Kurt gasped, shoving Rachel off him to shuffle closer to the TV.

"What. The. Hell." Rachel deadpanned. "How did she- why is she-"

Kurt shushed her as the voice-over came on. "This is Miss Santana Lopez, a young up and coming singer who has already made a name for herself singing in prestigious venues in Las Vegas."

_Rachel Berry actually swore_. Then said, "PRESTIGIOUS? SHE WAS BASICALLY SINGING IN STRIP CLUBS WHEN I SAW HER LAST!"

Kurt clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide at his old friend's new found 2D quality.

"Miss Lopez is actually here as a plus one, not yet being of status to score her own invite." Santana on the screen blew the cameras a kiss and then turned as a man came up to her to guide her along the carpet to allow the next person have a spot in the light. "If we can get Joe to follow her, I'm sure, oh yes! There we are."

The camera followed Santana as she strut down the carpet and linked her arm through a much shorter man's. He was clean cut, dressed in tailored black suit with a deep purple tie. "It seems Blaine Anderson has found himself a new-old-friend. According to close sources, the two were reunited in Las Vegas last month, and he has confirmed rumours of using her vocals on his next single."

Santana was smiling at Blaine, chatting to him and shaking her clutch, before pointing to a few cameras and waving. Blaine's face went from a cheerful grin to a frown in seconds, and he was soon pulling her away down the rest of the carpet, muttering and shaking his head.

Rachel turned it off then, and they sat in silence for a while.

The small brunet broke it. "I'm sorry Kurt. I know it must be hard seeing him and everything, but can I just say, what an absolute BITCH!"

The sudden change in Rachel's tone and the way she leapt up off the sofa in her exclamation startled a laugh out of Kurt which he couldn't stop.

Then Rachel was laughing as well. She poured them both another glass of wine.

Through giggles, she forced the glass into his hand, and led a toast with, "To our shitty old acquaintances and their stupid success. I'd much rather be here."

Kurt just laughed harder because it was possibly the biggest lie Rachel had ever told. "And to your new found sailor language. I didn't think you had it in you."

"And to that." Rachel nodded, and their glasses chimed.

X

**_January 2014, New York_**

"Kurt, Kurt you would not believe where I am right now."

It was obviously not 3am in Blaine's time zone, but Kurt wasn't exactly sleeping very well these nights. His replies of 'where?' and 'really?' and 'oh my god' hadn't yet become exhausted. Kurt still felt a thrill of excitement when Blaine's name flashed up on the caller ID, and he practically screamed down the phone at his boyfriend every time he said, _"I am honestly about ten feet away from-"_

"Where are you?"

"I'm on my way to have dinner with Katy Perry." Blaine's enthusiasm leaked through the phone, over the miles, and infected Kurt.

He retorted with a grin, "_With_ Katy Perry, or _around_ Katy Perry?"

"Fine, in the same room as Katy Perry with a slight chance of talking to her. Why aren't you more excited?"

"Ring me when it's Gaga, Blaine." Kurt teased.

"No Kurt, _you_ ring _me_." There was a rush of traffic on the line as Blaine got out of a car. "You think I'm pretty, without any make up on..." Blaine started singing, and Kurt could hear the grin in his voice.

"You're quite lucky I do. There is no way I would let you wear that stage makeup outside of your photo shoots."

Blaine laughed. "Okay, I better go. I'll speak to you soon."

"Alright. Make some jabs about how her album sales compared with Taylor Swift."

"Never!"

"Wuss. Love you."

"I love you too, even if you are mean to me."

"Hey, someone has to keep you grounded."

X

**_May 2016, New York_**

Kurt was tipsy, but damn it, he loved cheap red wine on nights when he just wanted to fold up in the warmth of their couch.

"So how exactly did Santana end up working strip clubs? That is a good story to know when we need a new TV."

Rachel was slumped with her feet up on their tiny coffee table which also served as a dinner table. They pretended they were in Japan when they knelt on cushions and ate simplistic meals on it.

"There was a circuit. When I left here and went out, I begged Santana to give me her contacts. She refused, said it wasn't anything I could handle. She was working the higher end ones, but her singing always had to be... raunchy." The girl looked at Kurt, wiggling her eyebrows.

He pulled a face. "They didn't want your Broadway tunes in the strip clubs then?"

"Nope." Rachel turned her head, popping the P.

"So, she was the ear porn basically." Kurt snorted.

"She always did have a nice edge to her voice. It worked out for her anyway." The bitter tone in Rachel's voice shone through, but she tried to smile.

"Yeah."

Kurt thought back to Santana in a red prom dress, waving to him from the stage as Blaine spun him to Dancing Queen. Santana was still in a red dress, she was still waving at him, and Blaine was still there. No matter how much time passed, his present always reflected his past in a warped and twisted way.

X

Two bottles, a rendition of 'Do You Hear The People Sing' (which their neighbours replied with a firm YES), and a game of dress up later; Kurt was sat on their kitchen counter. Rachel was lying on the floor in a pair of heels, Kurt's old top hat, and a classic Berry-esq dress.

Kurt leaned his head back against a cupboard door, as Rachel said quietly, "You know what I find upsetting? You two were supposed to be the ones to stick it out. You were supposed to last forever. People said they saw me and Finn getting married, just because we got back together so many times. But everyone knew it was you and Blaine."

Bad conversation topic, Kurt thought, but his hazy mind couldn't quite understand why.

"Kurt." Rachel was sat up now, an attempt at a serious face clashing wonderfully with the jaunty angle his hat sat at. "Kurt, what happened?"

He looked around his tiny living space. There were only two doors, one lead to the bathroom, one lead to the outside. His clothes were all on one portable railing in one corner, the couch in another, the kitchen in the third, and a dresser and mirror in the last. It was tiny, it was cramped, he hated it and he loved it.

"We grew apart."

Rachel looked sceptical and he sighed, this was probably her plan. Get Kurt nice and drunk and then make him cry into her shoulder. She probably did that to Blaine too. She probably organised that whole thing with Santana... No. He was giving Berry far too much credit; she was just as drunk as he was, just as annoyed as he was about the pair on TV.

"He was all over the place after the first tour. He got a manager, we moved out here together after the summer."

And nursing another glass of red wine, he spilt his heart out to Rachel Berry, the small girl with wide eyes who drank in every word.

X

**_2013, New York_**

They found a small one bedroom flat, Kurt got his first job in a cafe, and they played house. They were scared and they were young but they had so much excitement. Blaine would wake Kurt every morning with a coffee, and they would look outside at the city for a little while before settling into their day. They were only 18, but they felt so old.

Blaine's parents were the only ones on board, surprisingly, from the word go. It probably had something to do with the fact that their son was on his way to the big time, and they had another son that they could instil the whole 'straight-and-take-over-the-family-business' thing into.

Kurt's dad was harder to work with, but after a detailed argument consisting of mainly, "we don't have enough money to support both Finn and I through college Dad. I can try and get on Broadway without a degree anyway. What would I even major in? If it all fails, I can always job climb. It's _New York_, please, Dad." It took a few weeks, but finally Burt cracked.

Blaine played in small venues, and when he wasn't out, he was writing new songs. When Kurt started going for auditions, their worlds began spiralling apart. They really only lasted a few months in that little apartment, but Kurt wouldn't take them back for anything.

After the 2012's summer 'taster of a tour' as Blaine called it, he settled into writing. Late night guitar sessions with notebooks filled with crossed out words. Kurt loved the raw emotion Blaine channelled and the elation that showed in his face when that chord structure finally sounded right.

Kurt couldn't ever get Blaine's songs out of his head. It made Blaine happy when he sung the tunes around their flat, so Kurt would hum Blaine's melodies whilst cooking.

Then Blaine went on a bigger tour after thanksgiving, a longer tour. Kurt couldn't afford the rent on his own, so they moved out, and Blaine left his stuff at Kurt's new bedsit whilst he travelled. It seemed smart at the time.

Then commercial deals popped up, and Blaine was wanted to perform at this and that venue. Then various shows wanted him, then radios, and then he launched an album and the distance widened. Blaine was jetting off from place to place, and Kurt stayed in his empty bedsit staring at the four walls.

On the weekends Blaine returned to the city, Kurt was happier. But there was urgency in each kiss, in each touch, and soon Kurt found what it was. Regret. Guilt for not being there more; a softer sadness.

When Kurt got a call that Blaine was considering moving out to LA at the advice of his new publicist, (really, when had that happened?) and he wanted Kurt to come out with him, Kurt said no.

New York was Kurt's dream. He had held onto it when Ohio dragged him down. Before Blaine, New York, with its flashing lights and packed streets, was Kurt's lifeline. He wasn't about to give it up. Sitting in his bedroom in Ohio, he knew he could crack the city; he just had to try a little harder. He owed it to the boy in the dumpster who spoke out with a confidence he never truly felt.

They went home together for Christmas, and they saw the New Year in at Times Square just like they had the year before.

As 2014 settled in, Blaine started boxing up some of his things, but left enough at Kurt's to keep them tied. Neither wanted to say goodbye just yet, and they were willing to try to make it work a little longer.

Anyone he vaguely knew asked after Blaine after that. Blaine this, and Blaine that, and Kurt was fed up with no-one seeing _his _dream being shattered slowly along with the other half of himself that was on the wrong coast.

Blaine was a musician, and wrote some more songs, which he then played to Kurt down the phone.

Kurt was an actor. He listened and didn't let the pain show in his voice.

But they held on for another year.

X

**_November 2014, New York_**

Kurt stared at a paper in front of him and pulled out his phone.

"Oh, hey Kurt."

"I... I didn't know you were in the city."

"I didn't think you wanted to see me." Cold, Blaine was cold. He was closed and Kurt couldn't get past the front like he had done so many times before. The phone, Kurt knew, was the problem.

"Why on earth would you think that?" His voice rose and people in the tiny newsagents looked at him.

And then there were lists coming out of Blaine's mouth, and Kurt was rooted to the spot, still staring at the 'Blaine Anderson Plays Small New York Show' headline.

Blaine said, "What even are we anymore Kurt? I haven't seen you properly for about six months."

Kurt's grip tightened on his coffee cup as his stomach plummeted. He knew this would happen eventually. But he didn't expect it to be over the phone whilst it was raining and heck; he never expected it to happen this _soon_.

Then Blaine was saying, "I can't keep doing this. I'm busy."

Then, "I love you, I_ miss_ you, but I can't. Ring me back later."

And Kurt didn't.

X

It hurts, when you realise your dream is being passed around, broken and shared with others. Rachel clutched at hers and refused to let anyone take it from her, but Blaine had just stumbled into his. Kurt was supposed to be the star. Blaine was going to get a nice safe job, and when they went out together, Kurt was going to be the one getting recognised.

It wasn't as if he scorned Blaine's talent, it was just that he had cast Blaine little late to the Kurt Hummel Big Broadway Dream and a side part was all that could be written in. It was the Kurt Hummel Dream anyway, not the Blaine Anderson Show.

Kurt hated himself every time Blaine's voice came on the radio and he turned it off. He was jealous; he was bitter. He brought Blaine's album in each shop he saw it in, as redemption.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm thinking, maybe four parts? possibly five if I get any more fluffy flash back ideas from good times.<strong>

**Review?**


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